And now the metal was free of the lock. She stared at the odd detail of the slotted shaft. „I say the metal was shined up to look like new. So who has an old cuff key lying around? I got it narrowed down to cops and magicians.“

Charles walked up behind her and looked over her shoulder at the broken bit of metal in her open hand. „There’s nothing wrong with the key plug. It’s only the extension that’s broken.“

„Key plug?“ Now she saw the joint line in the metal between the tooth of the key and the slot. She looked up at Charles. „You’ve seen this before?“

„Yes, it’s just like Max’s. Elegant thing. It might be the only design that Oliver couldn’t improve on.“ He walked back to the platform and knelt down to search through a box of tools. „There are all sorts of ways to open handcuffs. You can even do it with a wire.“

„Not NYPD cuffs,“ said Riker. „They’re the best.“

„Well, most can be opened with a wire or a pick,“ said Charles. And Mallory knew he was being tactful. Riker’s knowledge of locks did not extend beyond the aluminum tabs that opened his beer cans.

Charles pulled a green velvet pouch from the toolbox. „But if your life depends on it, and you’re really pressed for time, it’s always wise to use a key“

Mallory hunkered down beside the toolbox and stared at the embroidered F. This was a twin to the small bag Slope had removed from Oliver Tree’s clothing. She wondered what the brilliant West Side detective had done with that piece of evidence.

Charles opened the pouch and pulled out a collection of short metal posts dangling from the narrow opening in a four-inch rod. „See the slot? It’s identical to what’s left of yours.“

She stared at the fringe of metal posts. Some were hollow and a few were solid. They had the thickness and the teeth of handcuff keys, but they were too short to be of any use.

„This is an old souvenir from Faustine’s Magic Theater.“ Charles unscrewed a ball at one end of the slotted rod and emptied a dozen key plugs into his hand. „Some of these are antiques.“ He pointed to one of them. „This is the key Houdini used to open English handcuffs. I think they were called Darbys.“ He held up another post with teeth on both sides. „And this one opens Martin Daley bottleneck cuffs. One of these is a master for the Boer War model, like the old padlock on the accordion door. And the rest are – “

„Masters?“ Mallory stood up to hold one plug closer to the light. And now she noticed the detail of fine grooves on its head.

Riker took the broken key from her hand and unscrewed it from the shaft. He looked back at the plug she was holding. „They’re all master keys?“

„Yes,“ said Charles. „One of Faustine’s many husbands was a toolmaker.“ He screwed a key plug into the end of the rod. „This extends the reach, so you can work a lock with one cuffed hand.“ He stood up and pointed to the manacles in Mallory’s hand. „May I?“ He picked them up and turned his back for a moment. Then he faced her again, holding them out to her. „Here, lock up my right hand and don’t let go of the other bracelet.“

She obliged, slipping one manacle over Charles’s wrist and locking it shut. He raised the cuffed hand above his head, dragging her arm upward by the chain connected to the bracelet’s mate. When he lowered his hand again, the metal fell from his wrist, open and dangling from the handcuff Mallory was holding.

Startled, Riker took Charles’s key and held it up to the broken one. „How did you do that so fast? I swear, I never saw you work the lock.“

„Nothing to it.“ Charles looked at Mallory, almost apologetic. „Oliver might have been killed by sentiment – using his old key from Faustine’s.“

„And he used the wrong key plug,“ said Riker. „Charles’s key doesn’t match the broken one. Sorry, kid. There goes your case. The metal broke because the old guy was forcing the wrong plug in the lock.“

Mallory snatched back the keys and closed them in a tight fist. „How many people would have these things?“

„Anyone who worked for Faustine might have one,“ said Charles. „And they’re probably the originals. These days, it’s wildly expensive to make new ones. A locksmith couldn’t do it. You’d need a custom machinist, a real craftsman.“

Mallory smiled. „So now I’ve got somebody in that circle of old men.“

Riker threw up his hands in exasperation. „It’s the wrong key. How can you look at the same evidence and – “

„You think Oliver didn’t test the key? It took Charles three seconds to find the right master.“

„Oliver might have been nervous,“ said Charles. „Stage fright. Accidents do – “

„He was in the restoration business,“ she said. „He understood metal fatigue. So what’re the odds he’d use a fifty-year-old key extension that might get him killed? Somebody switched them. That’s why it’s the wrong key plug.“

Riker was unconvinced, but not up for a fight. „It isn’t enough to sell a jury on murder.“

„Maybe not,“ she said. „But it’s a damn good start. If the nephew had access to the old man’s crossbows, he might know about this key. You have to interview him today.“

„The reporters wanna talk to him, too,“ said Riker. „They’d like his point of view on the great balloon assassination. But they can’t find him. Nobody can.“

„Keep looking. And I want my.357 back.“

„Oh, forget the damn gun,“ said Riker. „Why go out of your way to jerk Coffey around? Your.38 makes smaller holes, but it’ll do.“

Charles ducked out of this argument. He picked up a nine-foot post and climbed the steps to the top of the platform.

He was standing on a stepladder, holding the crossbeam over the two vertical posts, carefully fitting pegs into receiving holes, when Mallory called up to him. „That wasn’t on Oliver’s platform.“

Charles nodded as he locked the pegs into place. „I know, but see this?“ He pointed to a recessed lightbulb socket in the underside of the crossbeam. „It also holds up the curtains. There’s a drapery rod running along the back – “

„Oliver didn’t use curtains or a lamp.“

„Mallory, let’s put the whole thing together. Then you can eliminate the pieces you don’t like.“

Riker bent over an open crate and pulled out a crossbow. A thick band of strings dangled loose. The handle and trigger were shaped like a gun. Instead of a hammer to cock it, a long curving piece of metal extended out from the pistol grip. „Hey, Charles?“ Riker pointed to the narrow box of wood on top of the shaft. „A magazine?“

„Yes, it’s a repeater.“ Charles came down the steps, two at a time. „The magazine holds a load of three arrows.“ He took the weapon from Riker. „It needs a cleaning and some oil. A dry firing might wreck it.“ He carried it back to the platform and fitted the pistol grip into a receiving well at the top of the clockwork pedestal. Now it was aiming up toward the oval target. „Mallory, don’t ever fool with this if you’re down here alone. It’s dangerous.“

„Yeah, right.“

„I told you, it killed someone.“

Riker looked up from his perusal of another crate. „Someone besides Oliver Tree?“

„Yes, another casualty,“ said Charles. „Max was trying out the act in a small town. Two local boys snuck backstage after the performance. One of them claimed he could do the trick. A bet was made, and the boy died – only seventeen years old.“

„So the trick was always dangerous.“ Riker looked at Mallory to say, I told you so. And then his eyes traveled over all the open crates and mechanisms. „Pretty big production for one lousy trick.“

„Oh, no,“ said Charles. „This platform worked for quite a number of illusions. The crates have props for at least twelve different tricks. It’s going to take a while to sort it out.“

Mallory stood next to one of the pedestals of large brass circles with squared-off teeth. This one was not yet topped with a crossbow. A metal peg fell from a hole near the edge of the top gear.